Letters
by lurv2boogie
Summary: James tries, in vain, to write Lily a love letter, but it doesn’t seem to be working out. Who’s coming to his rescue? Anyone and everyone. What will it take for James to finally impress his girl? [JamesxLily, Marauders era, mild language]
1. Attempt the First

**Disclaimer: Not JKR. Etc, blah blah. **

**A/N: Okay, gorgeous readers, this is a threeshot based on a challenge set by _...razberryfieldsforever... _The challenge was to write a fic that included at some point:**

**-Someone saying, 'Thank you, Dark Forces, oh, thank you!'  
-Very sarcastic use of the word 'magnanimity'  
-The adjective 'mellifluous' at least four (count 'em _four_) times  
-Love letters**

**This is the resulting threeshot. Just to clarify, any aspects of the challenge not seen in this first part _will _be turning up at some point, so if you don't see one part of the challenge fulfilled, it's because it appears in a later chapter. So, enjoy, and please review! **

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The Hogwarts Express rocked as it travelled steadily towards Kings Cross, snowflakes falling gently on the top of the carriages. Outside, all was peaceful. Inside Carriage #12 was a different story.

"You _will_ write me, won't you James?"

"Yes Lily. Everyday, dear."

"And you'll tell me all the wonderful things you've done over the Christmas break?"

"Yes dear. Everyday, dear."

"And you'll think about me a lot?"

"Yes dear. Everyday, dear."

"And you'll set all your clothing alight so that when you return to school you'll be completely naked in all your classes?"

"Yes dear. Every—" James Potter's eyes narrowed. "Hey."

Lily Evans smiled sweetly, "Well, serves you right for not paying attention, doesn't it?"

"I was paying attention! Just in a different way than usual. It's a different kind of paying attention."

"You mean as in, it's not human?" Lily said, hitting James lightly on the top of his head with the book she had been about to pack away. James grinned boyishly at her, stepping back and letting her finish packing.

"You know, I'm really going to miss you over the break." James told her seriously, watching her expression light up. He loved knowing he could provoke that kind of reaction from her.

"I'm going to miss you too." She said simply, and the two stood in silence for a moment. James walked up to Lily and stood behind her, bringing his arms around her and holding her arms close to her chest in a strange backward hug.

"How about," James said, burying his face in the crook of her neck, "I write you a love letter during Christmas. Even if we're not going to see each other, it doesn't mean I can't still be wonderfully romantic."

At this, Lily snorted.

"You? Write a love letter?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"Uh… let's think." Lily said, glaring pointedly. "The last time you tried to do this sort of thing, you sent me a Howler."

"It was mellifluous."

"It was _stupid_, you mal-adjust!"

"I just wanted to make a point."

"And that you did. I seem to remember me introducing you to the 'pointy' end of my wand."

"Dearest Lily, you weren't supposed to use your wand like _that_. Generally we _magical_ folk like to use it for _magic_."

Lily didn't reply, instead picking up her packed bag as the Hogwarts Express slowed to a stop, and swinging it over her shoulder. She smiled at James genuinely as she kissed him goodbye, and turned to leave the compartment. Sliding open the door, she suddenly stopped in her tracks and spun on her heel to look at James, and said softly,

"_Dearest Lily_. I like that."

---

_Dearest Lily,_

_You are like sunshine - my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away. _

"You do realise that you are extraordinarily pathetic, right Prongs?"

James Potter looked up from his parchment indignantly. It was Christmas Eve, and he was sitting in his garden, outside his house, with Remus Lupin. He had been trying desperately (and failing) to write Lily that blasted love letter for the last hour.

"Am not." He replied, before turning his back to Remus Lupin and ruffling his hair in thought. Lupin rolled his eyes and shrugged off the snowflakes that had gathered on his shoulders.

"You can't tell your girlfriend you'll write her a love letter and then nick some other chap's lyrics." Remus pointed out, causing James to look around at him so fast his neck cracked rather nastily, and he fell off the snowy tree stump he'd been sitting on.

"Why not?"

"Because, Prongs," Remus began, "It's not original."

"It's romantic. It's mellifluous. It's-"

"Theft?"

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean…" James trailed off confusedly. "Well, what do you suggest, smart arse?" James furrowed his eyebrows as Remus paused for a moment, thinking.

"Dearest Lily," he said, and then gestured at James to write down what he was saying. James gestured rudely in Remus' direction, but picked up his quill anyway. "This winter might have been cold to begin with, but the chill that I feel because I'm not at your side is freezing me slowly like an ice Popsicle."

James chuckled. "Seriously though, what should I write?" Remus stared at him indignantly.

"You… you don't like the ice Popsicle thing? Well, okay, we can change that. What about… uh… This winter, blah blah blah, freezing me slowly like an ice statue that you get your tongue stuck to-"

"Okay, stopping there. How could any girl _not_ take offence at being told that her boyfriend is an 'ice statue that you _get your tongue stuck to_,'? And I don't know about you, but I don't generally compare myself to an _ice Popsicle_…"

"But Prongs, I wasn't finished. I was being incredibly generous in my support of your writing a letter to Lily."

"Oh, Moony, dearest, I do heap praise upon you for your astounding magnanimity."

Remus narrowed his eyes and sighed.

"Why are we sitting outside anyway? I'm slowly freezing to death."

"My parent's Christmas parties," James said, gesturing towards the back door to his house, "always end up with one of them getting completely smashed and singing Muggle songs while dancing on the table-top. I thought I'd spare you the horror."

"Well, why does Padfoot get to be inside? By the fire?"

"Because he doesn't find it as disturbing as I do. He actually finds it… _amusing_."

"Who's to say I'll find it disturbing?" Remus asked, and James snorted at Moony's indignant expression.

"The good people at St Mungo's Asylum Ward. Only the psychotic, the drunk or the lonely want to see my parents get smashed. Hence why we are sitting outside, and Padfoot isn't."

"Ah," Remus replied, nodding knowingly, before looking at James questioningly. "So why can't we Apparate to your bedroom? Away from the party… and it'll be warm up there. Plus we'll be able to conjure up some firewhiskey… if we get pissed enough maybe we can join the party after all."

"_No_ amount of firewhiskey could make us pissed enough to join the party."

"Well, okay, but what about going up to your room? In _the warmth_?"

"Moony, I like you as a friend, but I'm not ready for that level of commitment _just yet._"

"I'm being serious, Prongs," Moony said, punching James lightly on the arm. "Why stay out here?"

"Don't you just love the cold, though?"

"My testicles are frozen. Does that sound particularly enjoyable to you?"

"Depends."

"_Depends_? On what?"

"Well, if you're an _ice statue_, I'd imagine it's not all that bad."

And with that, James Disapparated into his bedroom.


	2. Attempt the Sixteenth

**Disclaimer: Once again, not JKR. sigh**

**A/N: Haha, my pretties, the next part has arrived! Part three will be up in the next few days. Enjoy, and as always please review!**_

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_

_Dearest Lily,  
You're just too good to be true; can't take my eyes off of you! You're just like heaven to touch; I want to hold you so much. At long last, love has arrived, and I thank Merlin I'm alive – because you're just too good to be true, and I can't take my eyes off of you._

"It's a song."

James looked up at Sirius Black, who was smirking proudly at what he had just pointed out. The two were sitting in James living room, along with Remus, and Sirius was clutching his head pitifully after a long night of one-too-many firewhiskeys, looking agitatedly at James. Remus and Sirius had been forcibly sat down by James and made to listen to his shabby attempts at writing love letters.

"What do you mean, it's a song?" James asked thickly. Remus rolled his eyes.

"It's a Muggle song. Just like the last thirteen drafts of this letter that you've read out," Remus told him.

"A song, though?"

"You know, it's got music to it. And a melody. Point is, someone else wrote that."

James sighed, "I really don't see what your problem is with me _borrowing _some lyrics."

"It's not _borrowing_, Prongs, for the last time. It's _theft_! _Stealing_! All very bad things!" Sirius snapped. "This is the third time you've read out the same bloody lyrics, and all you've managed to change so that it's slightly less like plagiarism is the word 'God' to the word 'Merlin'."

"Hey!" James said, turning angrily to Sirius. "That's a significant change. And like _you_ could do any better, Padfoot."

"Actually," Sirius said, puffing out his chest importantly, "I could."

"Alright then. Let's hear what you've got," James said smugly, and Remus sat up a little straighter.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Ahem. Ahem-ah-ah-ah-ahem. Dearest Lily, roses are red, violets are blue, you're stuck in my head, and I really love you."

"No, Padfoot. No, no-no-no."

"Well how about some poetry, eh Jamsie-poo?" Sirius said, and James looked back at him with amazement.

"You know, Padfoot, that's not a bad idea."

Remus rolled his eyes again.

"Do I have to be the one to point out that _all_ your attempts at writing Lily a love letter have been poetic? All of them!" He said, glaring at Sirius and James.

"What?" James said disbelievingly. "No they haven't."

"They all rhyme, they all have a metre. Sodding poetry!"

"Shut up, Moony."

Remus coughed, half trying to hide a badly disguised, "Moron."

"Okay, so how do I start this?" James said, thinking aloud. "Dearest Lily, you're not really silly, when you're not here I'm chilly, next to you I look like a hillbilly."

A pause, and Sirius and Remus exchanged glances before Sirius spoke up.

"It's going to be a long night."

---

_Dearest Lily,  
Some hearts are old, are shattered, are greyed,  
__Some cats and dogs are neutered and spayed,  
__But, thankfully, I'm none of the above  
__Because of this heart that beats for your love_

_Dearest Lily, gorgeous Lily, I'd climb mountains for you,  
__I'll do anything you need, anything you want me to,  
__If you'd give me your heart, I'd jump for joy,  
__You'd be my girl, and I'd be your boy._

_You'll find no one else who loves you more than I,  
__Even if you look far and wide with your little eye,  
__I've loved you since the day we first met,  
__I would be Romeo if you're Juliet._

_Lily, Lily, I'd say that word all day,  
__If it did mean that I'd hear you say:  
_'_I love you lots James, I love you lots dear,'  
__I'd be King Arthur, and rescue you, Guinevere._

_Your hair is like fire, your eyes are like peas,  
__Your skin is like ivory; your nose has no grease.  
__I just can't stop loving you, try as I might,  
__So let me be your prince, my gorgeous Snow White._

"So what do you think?" James asked nervously. His father stood up straight against the kitchen door, examining the parchment closely.

"It's… mellifluous."

"See? That's what I've been trying to tell everyone!"

"You might want to consider changing a couple of things, though," At this, James' face fell.

"Like what?" He asked his father suspiciously.

"Well," Mr Potter began. "The cats and dogs bit, for instance. In the first stanza."

"You don't like the dogs bit?"

"I hate the dogs bit."

"Oh."

James' father sighed. "A girl wants to feel like you've put in a lot of effort for her. Not like you've written down the first thing that came to mind. Writing _good_ love letters is a way to show that you're willing to put effort in for her."

"But I did put a lot of effort in!" James protested. "I've been effort-ful! _Effort-ful!_"

"Effort-ful isn't a word."

"That's beside the point. And _that's_ not the point. The point of the point is, I think she's going to like it," James argued, stamping emphatically to prove his point. He realised that he sounded like he was having a temper-tantrum, but didn't really care.

"The point of the point? Which point?"

"The second point."

"About the dogs bit?"

"No, the other point."

"The _other_ point?"

"The point that the effort-ful point wasn't the point."

"Well," Mr Potter said after a prolonged pause in which both men were trying desperately to work out where the conversation had taken them, "she is your girlfriend. But still, I know women, and if she's even remotely female she'll respond well to something that doesn't refer to domestic animal sterilisation."

"Well how do you know she's even remotely female?" James asked, and it took a moment for him to realise what he'd just said. His father just stared at him. "Let's just forget I said that last bit, okay?" James offered. Mr Potter nodded, handing the piece of parchment back to his son.

"Happily."

---

_Dearest Lily,_

_Some hearts are old, are shattered, are greyed,  
__Some foolish people sometimes lose their way,  
__But I'm never lost, always know where to go  
__Because your love guides me to and fro_

"Better?" James asked nervously. Mrs Potter nodded in agreement – he had angrily interrupted her while she was in the kitchen, handing her the slip of parchment and demanding her opinion.

"It's pretty good. Your father never wrote me anything like this. I'm sure that Lily will be glad to have received it."

"Yeah?" James liked the idea that he was more romantic than his father. Mind you, this wasn't particularly hard to achieve. Despite what Mr Potter had claimed to his son earlier, it was likely that a skunk-attack was more romantic than his father.

"Absolutely."

"So it's good?" James asked again. Merlin, he was getting paranoid about this bloody letter. Stupid Lily.

"It's good."

"… Mellifluous?"

"Very. Incredibly. Wonderfully. A myriad of other adjectives ending in the letter 'Y'. Now will you let me finish making dinner?"

James stared at his mother with incredulity, and then remembered that she was holding a very heavy pot in her right hand and a carving knife in her left.

"Yes, mum."


	3. Attempt the Twenty Seventh

**A/N: And so, my gorgeous readers, the final part to _Letters_. I hope you guys have enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it - it's been fun. In this chapter, anyone who can pick the quote that I borrowed from _Frasier_ gets a cookie :) Sigh. Good times.**

**Disclaimer: Also, of course, I'm not JKR, nor am I Kelsey Grammer.**

**Please review. **

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_Dearest Lily,  
__Some hearts are old, are shattered, are greyed,  
__Some boots are leather and some boots are sued,  
__I promise you, dear, I will never be swayed  
__Your love is a debt that must be repayed_

"I think that's a step in the opposite direction."

James looked up indignantly at Brian, the Postman he had flagged down who had been delivering the neighbour's Muggle Post.

"What do you mean, a step in the opposite direction?" James asked, his eyebrows furrowing. Brian sighed, shuffling his post-filled bag.

"Well, what you've written here is too clumsy. You need to really think about what you want to say, then write it down so it flows smoothly."

"But that's what I've been doing!" James whined, shaking the parchment in frustration. "What am I doing wrong? I just want to tell the love of my life that she _is_ the love of my life – why is that so bloody hard?"

Brian stared at James confusedly. "Don't ask me, laddie," he said as he got up. "I'm just the Postman."

As he watched Brian walk away, James tore the parchment up in frustration.

---

_D-arest -ily,_

_Some he-rts are old,-re shattered, -re greyed,  
__Som- boots are leat-er and som- boots are su-d,  
__I promise yo-, dear, - will never -e swayed  
__Your-love is a debt-hat must be -epayed_

"Am I supposed to be able to read it?"

"No," James replied, refusing to make eye contact with Remus. "I got angry at it."

"Well then how is Lily going to read it?"

"I dunno. Suggestions?"

"Spellotape?"

"Why did you answer my question with a question?"

"Why _did_ I answer your question with a question?"

"You're being infuriating."

"Thank you."

"This could be considered something along the same lines as Dark Magic."

"In that case… _Thank you, Dark Forces, oh thank you_!"

"You know, Moony, sometimes you're just too flip."

---

_Dearest Lily,_

"Where's the rest?" Lily said, after a pause. James had arrived on the train, greeted her with a piece of parchment and a grin on his face, apologising for not getting the letter to her sooner. Lily had scanned the parchment over three times to make sure she hadn't gone blind.

"Well," James began, "I spent all holidays trying to think of what to write, but nothing was really working, so I just figured I'd write the only thing I knew for sure you'd like."

He reached across Lily as the couple sat down, and produced a pile of torn pieces of parchment. He let the pile fall into her lap.

"What's this?" She asked, confused.

"Twenty-seven drafts."

At this, Lily chuckled quietly. She picked up one that was close to the top of the pile, and read it aloud.

"'Your hair is like fire, I'm glad you're not bald'," she recited, laughing harder. "'Your eyes are the best, the colour emerald'." The parchment in her hand shook as she laughed. "Where did you come up with this?"

"I thought poetry would be romantic."

"It's… interesting, no doubt."

"Mellifluous?"

"What is it with you and that word?" Lily asked. James shrugged.

"I like saying it. _Mell-ee-floo-us_. It rolls off the tongue," James paused, sensing an opportunity. "The word 'Lily' does that too."

Lily rolled her eyes.

"Yes, well," she replied. "James, this is all very funny, albeit not really what I was looking for…"

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

"James," Lily said, locking her eye line with is, "You don't need to write me poetry, or a _love letter_, or anything else to tell me that you love me. I already know."

"You do?"

"You tell me every other day," she replied, eyes blazing. "How could I not know? And anyway, you obviously put a lot of effort into this, so I suppose I'll have to forgive you, regardless." James grinned.

"Wait till I tell my father."

---

Exactly twenty-two years later, seventeen year old Harry James Potter looked through the attic at 12, Grimmauld Place, and came across a small cardboard box with the words 'James and Lily's' written across it in black ink. Smiling curiously, Harry opened it to find a few dusty, torn up pieces of parchment, all starting with the words, '_Dearest Lily_'.

An incredulous grin forming on his face, he pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket that he'd had with him for about two weeks. It was almost identical, worked and creased and torn in almost exactly the same places. He laid the two pieces of parchment on the floor in front of him.

They were twenty-two years apart. But it was amazing that love didn't seem to be bound by time at all.

One read _'Dearest Lily_', while the other read '_Dearest Ginny_'.

Again, Harry grinned to himself. He told himself he would have to ask Remus about it later, and stored the pieces of parchment in his back pocket.


End file.
